


Max Payne Good Samaritan

by kenchang



Category: Max Payne - All Media Types
Genre: Adult Content, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Nudity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-23 18:03:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16164053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kenchang/pseuds/kenchang
Summary: Sometimes trouble just comes looking for Max.





	Max Payne Good Samaritan

**Author's Note:**

> Don't expect much accuracy to the source material. It's only fan fiction after all.

It's another cold night in Jersey. Even started to snow a little bit. But that's all good. I'm wearing an old, long coat, and I'm smoking a cigarette, so I'm kinda keeping warm both inside and out. I actually like it like this. Hardly anybody else outside, the snow forcing everyone to stay in their homes. Nice and quiet. I don't like crowds. I particularly don't like the sound of their laughter, their happiness taunting me with memories of a better life.

Aw shit. Not this again. Should really stop torturing myself. My wife and daughter are dead. It's been years. Just accept it.

A ruckus across the street wakes me from my self-reproach. Some skinny guy is getting his ass handed to him by a couple of toughies. They throw him facedown on the sidewalk then start stomping on his back and kicking him in the ribs. That's gotta hurt.

One of the big guys notices me and asks, "There a problem, old man?!"

"Yea," I answer. "But it ain't my problem."

He smirks then promptly goes back to kicking the skinny guy's ass. I go back to smoking.

I was a cop. I used to give a shit about stuff like protecting and serving. But that was a long time ago. I'm no good Samaritan. And I'm definitely no hero. For all I know, that unfortunate skinny guy is getting just what he deserves. Hell, maybe we all deserve an ass whooping every once in a while. Lord knows I do.

"Alright, that's enough, Rico," the big guy breathlessly tells his buddy. "Now, pull his pants down."

What the fuck? They're gonna rape him now?

Rico pulls down the skinny guy's pants and eagerly tells the big guy, "Do 'em, Larry. Do 'em now."

Larry looks around and picks up a lead pipe. Shit, they're gonna sodomize the poor bastard with a piece of metal. It'll destroy his asshole. I toss away my cigarette and cross the street.

"Alright," I tell them. "Now, I've got a problem."

"What are you, a cop or something?!", Larry yells, pointing the pipe at me. "Let's see a badge!"

"I'll do you one better."

I pull out my old service pistol and aim at his forehead. I see the courage drain from his face.

"H-Hey, it's cool, man," he stutters, dropping the lead pipe.

"Whatever," I reply. "Now, I'm gonna let you two walk. But if I ever catch you trying this kind of sick shit again, I'm gonna shoot you both in the nuts. Got it?"

They nod fearfully.

"Now, get the hell out of here. The both of you," I tell them.

They scurry away. I look down at their unconscious victim. A part of me thinks that I've done enough for him already. But if I leave him out here, he's likely to freeze to death.

I sigh and say, "What the hell am I going to do with you?"

#

The skinny guy wakes up with a start on the shabby couch in my equally shabby apartment. He quickly looks around, clearly afraid and disoriented.

Then he stares straight at me and warily asks, "Who are you?!"

"My name's Max," I answer. "I just saved your ass. Figuratively and literally."

It takes him a second to remember the mess he was in. Or maybe he's just making sure that his asshole isn't sore. When he's certain, grateful tears roll down his cheeks.

"Thank you!", he cries. "Thank you, thank you, thank you-!"

With arms wide open, he gets up to hug me. But then his side hurts, and he falls right back down on the couch with a pained whimper. I hand him a glass of water, and he drinks, but it makes him cough and wince.

"You should go to a hospital," I advise him. "I'd have taken you myself, but I don't wanna get involved in whatever shit you're into."

"I understand. You've done more than enough already, Max. Believe me. Just let me call my girlfriend first so she can pick me up."

He takes out his cell phone and puts it to his ear. I pour myself another glass of whiskey. I'm about to take a sip, when I notice that the fear had returned in my guest's face.

"Who is this?!", he anxiously shouts into the phone. "Where's May?!"

I can't hear what's being said on the other line. But I can tell from the kid's expression that he is now in even deeper shit than he was when Larry and Rico were kicking his ass.

He lowers the phone with a trembling hand. And with eyes wide with fear, he tells me, "They have her. They have May."

"Who?", I ask. "Those two big guys from earlier?"

He nods his head. "Please, Max. You have to help me get her back!"

"I don't have to do shit. Go tell the cops."

"He owns the cops!"

"Who?"

"Joshua Pascual! That's who!"

I search my thoughts for a minute. "Why does that name sound so familiar?"

"He's a senator!"

"Right. Yea, that guy's got a lot of the cops in my old precinct in his pocket."

"You're a cop?!" He takes a fearful step back.

"Relax. I'm an ex-cop. And if I was in the senator's payroll, you think I'd be living like this?"

I motion around my small, dilapidated room to stress the point. He relaxes a little.

"Who the hell are you, kid?", I ask him. "What in the hell would a senator want with you?"

"I'll tell you everything, Max," he promises. "But can we please get going before they hurt her?"

"Whoa! We? What do you mean we? I don't remember agreeing to anything."

"I can pay you, OK? I have money."

Now, I'm interested. Hey, I'm unemployed. I'm behind on my rent, and I've got an addiction to feed.

"How much money?", I ask.

"Enough to fill a swimming pool with whatever that is you're drinking."

Now, I'm very interested.

"Can we go now?", he asks frantically.

Can't blame him for being in such a rush. If a couple of depraved, twisted animals like Larry and Rico had someone I loved, I'd be in a hurry, too.

#

"My name is Alvin Richards," he tells me, as I drive as fast as my jalopy can take us.

Christ, everything I own is either old or damaged. Guess it suits me. I'm old and damaged, too.

"I'm just gonna go ahead and say it," he continues shamefacedly. "I was a male prostitute."

"Don't worry about it," I reassure him. "I was a cop, remember? I've seen people do much worse for money. So, what? The senator was a client?"

"Yes."

"Doesn't he have a wife and two kids? Christ. So he wants to shut you up because he's afraid that this might get out and ruin his reputation, right?"

"God, I wish it was that simple. It's worse. He's in love with me."

That is worse. Love is a far greater motivation than fear. And I know that from personal experience. It was the love for my wife and child that propelled me on a bloody path of vengeance many years ago.

"When I managed to save up enough money, I quit my job and opened a bar," he explains. "May and I have always dreamed of having our own bar. But then Joshua starts pestering me on my phone, offering more money for sex or just to spend time together. I told him that I'm not going back to that kind of job. I even recommended a friend, another male prostitute, to him. But he wouldn't have any of it. Things got even creepier when I get this angry call from him, demanding to know who that girl was he saw me with!"

I shake my head and ask, "What does he want from you now?"

"The guy on the phone didn't say. Just told me to meet them at the construction site or May gets hurt bad. That's how I know it's Joshua behind it all. The shelters for the homeless they're building there is one of his projects."

"Gonna be honest with you, kid. He wants to punish you. He sent two guys to rape you with a lead pipe. What he's got planned for you is not going to be pleasant."

"I don't care what they do to me. You just make sure to get May away from them."

#

"We continue on foot from here," I tell him, as I take a custom-made pistol in each hand. "Don't want them to see me coming."

"You have two guns?", he asks.

"Yea, I'm ambidextrous. I like to dual-weild."

"Don't I get a gun?"

"You ever fire a gun before?"

"No."

"Then you don't get one."

He shakes his head. "How can you have gold plated guns, while your home is in such disrepair?"

"Priorities, kid. Priorities."

He shows me a photo of his girlfriend on his phone so I'll recognize her. She's a pretty girl. A slim brunette. Front teeth are a little too big, but no one's perfect. I take cover behind some barrels. Alvin calls May's phone to let them know that he's here. Two guys wearing suits and armed with submachine guns emerge from one of the buildings.

"He's waiting for you inside," one of the men says. And they escort the kid through the front entrance.

I sneak along the side of the building, looking for another way in, like an open window or something. I find a back door, but it's guarded by another armed thug. The senator must be paranoid bringing this much personal security. Then again, it isn't really paranoia since I'm here. But if his instincts were really good, he would have brought more bodyguards.

I wait for the guard to turn around, then I rush behind him and hit him with a pistol to the back of the head. He falls face first into the dirt. I kick his gun away in case he wakes up too soon. I hope he doesn't. For his sake.

#

The back door isn't locked. Doesn't even have a doorknob yet. I sneak inside, and I'm startled by a woman's screams coming from one of the rooms. Its door does have a doorknob, and it's locked, so I kick the door in.

I find May naked on the floor, screaming and thrashing wildly. Rico is holding her down by her wrists. While his buddy, Larry is on top of her with his pants down, about to rape the girl.

"Now, what did I say I was going to do to you two if I ever catch you trying this kind of sick shit again?", I ask them.

For one second, they all just stare back at me in quiet shock. And one second is all I need. See, I have this skill that I developed through years of practice and experience. In a fight, my reflexes have become so fast, it almost feels like I can slow time down.

Rico releases May's wrists to reach for the handgun in his jacket. I shoot him in the chest with the pistol in my left hand. His body is thrown back against the wall. Larry dives for his submachine gun on the floor. I shoot him in the back with the pistol in my right hand before he can get to it. Hey, I don't mind shooting an unarmed man in the back. They're lucky I didn't shoot them in the nuts like I said I would.

May shrinks away from me in fear, tears running down her face, her entire body trembling.

"Relax," I tell her as gently as I can. "I'm a friend of Alvin's."

Her eyes widen. "A-Alvin?", she stammers. "Oh God. He shouldn't be here. They're going to kill him! They said they would. They told me all the horrible things they're going to do to him-!"

These two kids surprise me. Each one willing to make the ultimate sacrifice to save the other. I admire that. I used to know what that felt like, to love others so much, you're more concerned for them than you are for yourself. You'd be willing to take a bullet for them.

"You stay here," I instruct her. "I'm gonna go get Alvin."

"No! I'm going with you!", she squeaks frantically, grabbing onto my right forearm with both hands.

Not very smart of her. She's got my pistol pointing at her chest.

"Let go of my arm!", I command more firmly. "I can't kill people while looking out for you at the same time."

Just then, the guard I knocked out earlier staggers into the room, a confused look on his face. May screams when she sees him and instinctively tightens her grip on my arm. I have to swing my body around to shoot the woozy guard in the chest with the gun in my left hand. His body is thrown back into the hallway. He didn't have a weapon in his hand. Guess he couldn't find the one I kicked away. I don't know if he had a piece holstered or not, but I couldn't take that chance. Really wish he had just stayed unconscious.

"There, see? You almost got us killed!", I shout at May. She finally releases my arm. "Stay in here. You'll be safe."

"Aren't you at least going to leave me one of your guns?", she pleads.

"Why do people keep asking me for my damn guns?! These are custom-made. Nobody touches 'em but me! Go get Rico's gun. He won't be needing it anymore."

She hesitantly does as I say. It's obvious that she's never held a gun before. Another thing she has in common with her wussy boyfriend. She's handling the weapon like something that disgusts her, like a worm or something. I don't know. I holster my gold plated pistols and pick up Larry's submachine gun.

This was never part of the deal. Alvin paid me to get May away from this place, and that's it. But there's no way I'm abandoning the kid to these sickos.

#

I walk the dark hallway. They haven't installed all the lighting yet. But there's light at the lobby. I didn't use a suppressor. They know I'm coming.

"Larry! That you?!", one of the guys that escorted the kid in earlier shouts, his submachine gun ready.

I noisily riddle his chest with bullets then answer, "No."

As he falls, the other guy opens fire at me. I leap out of the way and return fire in midair. The automatic weapon rips a bloody line from his stomach up to his right shoulder.

I land on my side, then quickly get back up to swing my submachine gun towards the last living hostile, the senator. But he has his left arm locked around the kid's throat, using the boy as a human shield. In his other hand is a revolver pointed at Alvin's temple.

"Put the weapon down or he dies!", Pascual shouts at me, his entire body shaking in panic, tears flowing from his eyes.

"Joshua, why are you doing this?", Alvin manages to rasp inspite of the arm tightly wrapped around his neck, choking him.

"Why?! Because you used me! You made me think that you loved me!"

"It was part of the job. That's how we get the clients to keep coming back. But I never said that I loved you-!"

"You didn't have to! You made me feel that you did! I was going to leave my wife for you. I didn't care about my reputation or career. That's why I was there. To tell you in person. I found out where your bar was. And then I find you making out with that cheap whore!"

"She's not a whore. I was the whore. It was just a job. Don't you get that?"

"You weren't a whore to me! I loved you!"

"Bullshit," I finally interrupt their lovers' spat. "You don't love him. You've got a gun to his head. That ain't love. I knew what it was like to really love someone. I would have never hurt her. I'd have hurt myself first."

I guess I got through to Pascual somehow. He quietly stares back at me for a few tense seconds, before pressing the barrel of his revolver against his own temple and then pulling the trigger.

The entire half of Alvin's face gets covered in the senator's blood.

#

The senator's death is ruled a suicide. Unsurprisingly, Larry and Rico had criminal records. And since I used Larry's gun to kill Pascual's goons, their deaths were blamed on him. As for everyone else I killed, my custom-made, gold plated guns aren't registered. And their bullets, homemade by an old acquaintance, can't be traced back to me.

A couple of weeks later, Alvin and May invite me to their bar's grand reopening. The Stomping Ground is what they call it. Or was it Stamping? I'm not sure. It's really not my scene. The music, some kind of rap, dance, techno crap, is too loud. The crowd is young and rowdy. I'm more of a cheap watering hole kind of a guy. You know, the kind of place that reeks of cigar smoke, urine, and depression, with a bartender that doubles as a bouncer.

"On the house," Alvin tells me from behind the counter, handing me a bottle of beer. "No way I'm gonna take money from the man that saved my life."

"You sure?", I jest. "I just might run you guys out of business."

Not likely. I could probably take only fifteen more minutes of this garbage they call music, and then I'm gone.

"You're a good man, Max," May tells me. "Thank you for saving a total stranger from across the street that night. I don't know what I'd do without him."

She lovingly wraps her arms around his waist, then they kiss. And you know what? Their happiness doesn't bother me one bit.

END

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
